Precious Scars
by TearsOfNightfall - Rowan Rook
Summary: Desperate, Phoenix makes a strange deal to get his badge back, but his first new case isn't what he bargained for. His girlfriend is dead, his pupil is acting strangely, and his daughter has gone missing. The top suspect behind it all? His client. Post-AJ
1. Prologue: Summer Tragedy

**The Typical Fan-Fiction Disclaimer:** I do not own Ace Attorney or any related characters or concepts, the Ace Attorney series is owned by Capcom, Shu Takumi, and various other parties and persons that have to do with the creation and/or publishing of the series. This is purely a fan work.

_Alright, time to start something new! This is my first time writing for the Ace Attorney series, but I recently discovered and played through the collection of games. It quickly became one of my favorites and I couldn't resist giving writing for it a shot._

_Notes:_

_-This fic contains **major spoilers for all localized games** in the series! _

_-This fic uses the localized versions of the character names, locations, and terms._

_-Additional info, including info regarding the rating, pairings, and a full summary, is up on my profile page for those who want a clearer idea of where this will be going._

_ Anyway, first up is a short prologue:_

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><p><strong>Prologue:<strong> Summer Tragedy

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><p>The large banquet hall was filled from wall to wall with the sounds of voices and the tempting scents of wine and fine desserts. Dinner had just ended, and most of the guests had taken to occupying themselves with evening conversation and drink, along with the several fruit pies, well-decorated cakes, and rich pieces of fudge that had recently been brought out to the buffet table. It was extravagant – far beyond anything the dark-haired woman had experienced before.<p>

Yet somehow she didn't think her flighty stomach would be able to hold anything else down.

She looked down again at the glass of red wine in her hands. She didn't want it, either – the tenseness of her muscles had fought away any remaining appetite. But…it'd been given to her by one of the hosts. It would be rude not to drink it and let it go to waste, wouldn't it? Forcing herself, she swallowed down a gulp of the grape juice, before taking another glance around.

There were so many voices that their tones and words were smudged and indistinguishable from one another, and it was almost impossible to find somewhere to stand without bumping in to someone. As it was, she was lingering near a corner, her palms and brow sweaty. And from somewhere near the back of the room, a violin melody started up, further smearing the noise in the atmosphere together with its high-pitched trill.

She felt dizzy, overwhelmed by the amount of activity around her.

She'd grown up in a place of relative silence, and she'd spent the last few years in a place that was quieter still. Perhaps she shouldn't have come to the party, after all.

At least, not alone. It was a shame that he hadn't been able to come with her, but he'd already made a prior commitment with his daughter, and she wasn't about to get in the way of that. True, this gathering was held by the company that she hoped to get hired for, but as she looked around, she couldn't find a single familiar face.

Heaving an uneven sigh, she made the decision to fight her way through the crowd and towards the flight of stairs leading to the next floor. She didn't want to leave – making an early exit would likely work against her when it came to getting the job, and she needed all the advantages that she could get considering her prison record – but at the same time, she couldn't stand that crowded, muggy room one second more.

She found herself feeling slightly…uneasy, as she pushed past the rest of the guests as discretely as she could. Was it really just the crowd?

Her muscles tense and her body on edge, she spared a few more glances around as she reached the stairway. Yet everything seemed fine. In fact, no one seemed to be paying her any attention at all, each guest far too involved in their own conversations and matters to bother giving any notice to her.

Her still sweaty fingers grasped around the swirling wine glass, she made her way up the carpeted steps. She was careful not to spill, knowing that the host would be angry if she left a stain on their expensive carpet. Everything about this house testified to the wealth of the company that'd thrown this party.

On the top of the stairs were the host's bedrooms and bathrooms. It'd already been nice enough of them to let guests have access to the area if they saw fit – all she wanted was a bit of air and a few moments of space…then she'd go back down and face the gathering once again.

Things instantly became quieter as she reached the second story, most of the noise from down below muted by the floor beneath her. It seemed this area was still empty. What a relief! She finally felt like she could breathe again.

Opening the door to what she figured was a bedroom, she headed inside, careful not to touch anything as she looked around. Sure enough, there was a patio at the far end of the room – she'd seen it from outside on the way in. The fresh breeze blowing in from its open door already felt refreshing against her damp skin.

She managed a slight smile for the first time in a while, quickly moving past the rest of the host's room and out onto the balcony.

The California summer air was still warm and muggy, even at this hour, but in comparison to the sweaty room below her, it was soft and crisp, as were the city lights below her. She still hadn't gotten used to living in Los Angeles yet…after all, she was still in her first month of freedom here. It couldn't be more different than the secluded home of her childhood, but there was something strangely beautiful and captivating about the city below her, too; she thought to herself as she leaned over the white balcony fence.

She felt her muscles start to relax again, honestly enjoying herself for the first time that evening. It was a comforting contentedness, the woman brushing away the dark hair that the light breeze was pushing in front of her face and swallowing down the last sip of her wine.

Then it happened, the glass dropping with a loud thud as it shattered against the patio floor.

She felt a sudden sharp, unexpected pain arise from somewhere in her throat, all at once stealing her breath from her. The woman gagged in shock, finding herself gasping for that same summer air as her heartbeat fluttered rapidly. She instinctively moved her hands to the pain in her neck, her fingers shaking in her fear and agony. But no matter what she did, the horrible sting only increased as it moved downwards, as if something was ripping its way down through her throat.

The woman could no longer catch her breath, the air refusing to find its way to her throat as she tasted the faint metallic tinge of blood. She wanted to cry out, but her voice wouldn't rise; her trembling form not cooperating with her will as she clung tightly to the patio rail.

What…was this? What was going on? She'd never felt anything like this before!

Her mind washed in fear, she barely heard the door to the host's bathroom open from somewhere nearby. She didn't bother turning to look, unable to focus on anything else as she fought for air.

But it was only a matter of moments until she felt something hit her heavily from behind, pushing down against her sweaty dress with unexpected force.

"It's been too long, hasn't it? A shame this will be our last meeting. …Goodbye, dear Iris."

A voice! Who's voice was it? …She didn't know. Amongst her pain and panic she'd hardly made out the words, but the voice sounded unfamiliar to her ears. Unfamiliar and frighteningly cold.

But she never got a look at the speaker's face.

The pressure against her back gave a rough, final push, and she all at once lost her grip on the patio railing, her trembling, damp fingers slipping off the white wood fence.

No!

She fell; tumbling face forwards as she flipped and careened through the dark city air. There was nothing to grab on to, and her lack of breath took away any ability she had to fight it. She let out a scream that was muffled by the pain in her throat…

And then she hit the alleyway below.

It was a hard, merciless thud, taking away any air and strength she had left.

Her consciousness started to fall away as she struggled to move her gaze upwards, to find a glance of the speaker. But they'd already left; the door to the patio above her now closed.

She didn't have time to comprehend anything else; she didn't even have time to shed tears as the black haze fighting against her vision also overtook her consciousness.

In the stillness of the alley below the patio, her spirit slipped away from her body, leaving her form motionless and silent.

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><p><em>And that leaves us with a rather tragic beginning... The meat of the story will begin in the first chapter, which was uploaded along with this prologue.<em>


	2. Chapter One: An Agreement

**The Typical Fan-Fiction Disclaimer:** I do not own Ace Attorney or any related characters or concepts, the Ace Attorney series is owned by Capcom, Shu Takumi, and various other parties and persons that have to do with the creation and/or publishing of the series. This is purely a fan work.

_Now on to the first full chapter, where the main part of the story begins. This takes place the morning after the prologue._

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><p><strong>Chapter One:<strong> An Agreement

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><p>"…I see…" The man answered, trying not to let his disappointment reach his face or voice.<p>

Things were quickly going sour – it was far too obvious what the outcome was going to be. "…But I passed the exam, didn't I?" He pointed out to the group of five or so faces staring back at him from over their desk. Not that it was going to make a difference. …Why had he even let himself get his hopes up?

A woman spoke up, her voice cold and professional. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wright – there's no doubt that you're talented. But it's not your skill or knowledge that's the issue here. We – "

"We can't just re-admit someone who has previously been disbarred for forgery! You gained permission to work behind the scenes on putting the jury in place last year, but we can't let you into a position that directly involves working with evidence. Not after you were caught tampering with it in the past! What would that say about the integrity of our justice system?" An older man butted in, his voice not only firm, but almost angry. "You understand this, don't you, Mr. Wright? It's a simple concept."

Phoenix Wright did his best to avoid grimacing as he stared back at the man, though he felt his fingers curl in frustration. That was Mr. Quinn, one of the most influential members of the bar review board…and someone who'd been working against him from the beginning of the exam.

The bar association was constructed of a number of lawyers who bore the task of upholding legality in their practice. This was the first time he'd faced them since that dark day over seven years ago…yet with a few noticeable absences, the association wore most of the same faces. He supposed he should've expected this outcome…

He didn't like being talked down to so blatantly, and the way the man spoke made it sound as if he'd presented forged evidence on purpose. _But I wasn't the one who had it made! _He argued internally, but voicing that now would only make the situation worse. The results of his reinstatement plea had clearly already been decided. Swallowing down an objection, he instead bit his lip and gave a simple nod, his hands behind his back. "…Yes, sir."

"Very good." Mr. Quinn nodded back in satisfaction, the ex-defense attorney turned pianist swearing he could detect a hint of a smile on the older man's lips. "Then we have nothing more to discuss. Your application has been denied."

"…Then thank you for your time." Phoenix replied in the collected nature he'd been known for, before simply turning away and walking out of the review room. His legs felt heavy, but he wasted no time in exiting the courthouse.

Apparently there was nothing left for him here, after all.

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><p>Sighing a bit, Phoenix took out a key from his pocket and unlocked to the door to the office that had read the 'Wright Anything Agency' for close to a year now. He stepped inside and kicked off his shoes at the entrance without bothering to untie them.<p>

He immediately noticed the scent of burnt meat coming from somewhere in the kitchen. …Had Trucy been attempting to cook by herself again? He gave a slight groan, but amidst the rest of the place, the scent was hardly noticeable.

The space was as messy and unkempt as ever. He'd lost his apartment long ago, along with his badge and the money it brought in, so the office now functioned as his and Trucy's home as well.

On one side of the room was his old desk, including his long untouched shelf of law books and paperwork that he couldn't quite bring himself to get rid of. On the other was a ragged piece of furniture that could count as a couch and older models of a TV and DVD player. And throughout the whole home office, contained in no place in particular, were countless trinkets, mementos, and magician's props.

His adopted daughter was a budding magician by trade, and her profession had quickly swallowed up the entire place. He did have a piano that he was supposed to practice on buried somewhere, but beneath the mess of stuffed rabbits, cards, capes, and whatever else she'd accumulated over the years, he could hardly tell where it was anymore. Truth be told, that was alright with him.

Unfortunately, neither of them had skills when it came to organization, and it showed. The office was almost unrecognizable compared to how it had once looked when Mia Fey, his late law mentor and its previous owner, had been alive. …That was close to ten years ago now, wasn't it? Absently, he wondered what she'd say now if she was to see what'd become of the place…

"Daddy!"

It was the sound of a bright, feminine voice that pulled him from his nostalgia and turned his attention over towards the main room, where he saw the faces of both Trucy, his daughter, and Apollo, a new defense attorney and her older half-brother, glancing over at him from the couch. There was a bowl containing some form of burnt, barely recognizable food on the table in front of them, and an action cartoon was blaring from the TV, but the teenage girl bounced up and moved towards the entrance at his arrival. "You're back already? So…how did it go?"

The man kept his sigh inwards. He wasn't particularly in the mood to talk with anyone, and somehow seeing her hopeful grin only made him feel worse. He still forced down his own disappointment, though, for her sake; replacing it with a casual smile. He gave a contrived, slightly sarcastic chuckle. "Let's just say it's a good thing that I didn't cancel the piano lessons."

Trucy's face instantly fell. "Oh…I'm sorry, Daddy…"

His forced grin clearly hadn't done much to fool her, but it was only a moment before she quickly perked herself back up again. Just like she somehow always managed to. Phoenix felt a hint of a genuine smile find his face – that was quite a skill she had.

"Hey, you know what?" The girl all at once continued, her voice enthusiastic. She clearly had some idea in her head again. "Mommy said that her friend, Machi, was going to be getting out of prison soon. Maybe you can take lessons from him – she always said that he was the best! If you have him teach you some songs, I bet Mommy would let you play along with them during some of her concerts. It'd be like a free ticket to stardom! You wouldn't even _need _talent, so you wouldn't have to worry! How awesome would that be?"

The man had to struggle not to let his expression shift to a frown once more. Trucy meant well – she was clearly trying to cheer him up, but it wasn't working. The ex-attorney just scratched the back of his head. "Don't worry about it, I'll figure something out." He assured, not wanting to worry her about his employment…or lack thereof.

After the Misham trial about five months ago, he'd given up playing poker in the basement of the restaurant where he worked. For the last seven years, he'd maintained a perfect win record with the assistance of Trucy's…abilities. After the accident that had killed the man who'd actually been Trucy's biological father, though, he'd made the decision not to risk getting her involved in anything like that again, and to finally quit something himself while he was ahead, for once. For now, he was still employed as the pianist at the same joint, but who knew how long that would really last? Why he hadn't been fired yet, he had no idea.

What _would_ he do, now? He'd had a lot riding on the hope of getting his badge, and his former profession, back, but now those had been completely shot down. He'd have to come up with something else in order to support the two of them…but what? What other skills did he really have?

Distractedly, he returned the blue and pink hat that Trucy had made him when she was younger to its place on his head, and slipped back on his more comfortable jacket. He'd tidied himself up a bit earlier that morning for the exam…for all the good it had done. "I was hoping that the Misham trial would be enough to clear my name, but apparently that isn't the same thing as mending my reputation. I'll just have to start turning in applications to whatever I can find, I suppose…" He muttered aloud at the situation, with a slight tinge of bitterness. He'd more or less been talking to himself, but Apollo finally looked up again from his place on the couch.

"I knew that you had some motive for choosing the Misham case for the jury simulation." He remarked dryly. "But don't forget that you gave me forged evidence to use in my first trial. You aren't that innocent, Mr. Wright."

Phoenix just gave a slight laugh. That was Apollo for you – when it came to his profession, he was always by the book. "But I'd already been disbarred, then. Even if I'd gotten caught, my reputation couldn't have gotten much worse, so I figured that I may as well take advantage of that fact. You've always got to find ways to make the best of a bad situation, right?"

The younger defense lawyer didn't seem convinced.

He'd been spending a lot of time at the office with Trucy, the two of them having grown surprisingly close, but the ex-attorney still got the feeling that Apollo didn't care for him all that much. He just gave his head a shake. "Besides, it was your first trial and you were obviously still green. Even if it had been noticed, I don't think anyone would've blamed you for it."

This time Apollo didn't give a rebuttal, just sighing a bit himself. His attention had moved down from his memories to his shoe laces, Phoenix suddenly noticing the boots he was putting on and the ones already on Trucy's feet for the first time. He raised a curious eyebrow. "Going somewhere?"

"Yep, we're taking off. Mommy got us all tickets to a concert by Gavin's new band! She got them for free, so I'm sure she could get one more if you wanted to come too, Daddy!" Trucy explained, still looking somewhat hopeful. "I bet it would cheer you up!"

Wait, he had a new band now? Somehow unsurprised, Phoenix didn't bother to ask about it. He wasn't exactly interested, especially not considering that Gavin had been the last prosecutor he'd faced before losing his badge. His face carried some unpleasant memories. He gave his head a light shake. "No thanks…I'm just not in the mood." He admitted. "But you two have fun, alright?" He put a smile back on, giving his daughter a light pat on the head.

"Okay then, Daddy! We will!" The magician girl grinned after only a brief moment of disappointment, knowing better than to try and force the issue.

Apollo got up from the couch and came to join her, the two siblings heading for the door. Even if he and the younger man tended to clash a bit, at least he knew that Trucy would be safe enough with him – one less thing to worry about.

"What time do you think you'll be back tonight?" He asked his daughter as she passed by.

This time Trucy hesitated for just a moment. "Oh…the concert's supposed to end late, so…I think I'll be sleeping at Mommy's tonight." She replied, without turning back to face him.

"…Oh." This time Phoenix failed at completely hiding his frown, but he quickly managed to force it away again. "Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

Trucy nodded. "Yep, see you tomorrow, Daddy!"

Then the door closed and he was alone again.

This time he didn't bother to hold in his exasperated sigh as he made his way over to the now vacant couch, plopping down on it and turning off the far too loud TV.

It wasn't all that long ago – perhaps a couple of months prior – when Thalassa, more commonly known to the world as the singer Lamiroir, had finally revealed herself as their mother to Apollo and Trucy. The woman had waited until she'd had the surgery she'd needed to restore her eyesight first, saying that she wanted to be able to see their faces when she told them. And it'd been just a few months before that when Phoenix himself had broken the news to the two of them that they were in fact half brother and sister.

Apollo had been utterly shocked at both truths, Phoenix still finding it hard not to chuckle a bit when he recalled his face, but Trucy had been overjoyed. It hadn't taken her any longer to re-acknowledge Lamiroir as her mother than it had for her to acknowledge him as her new father all those years ago.

He was happy for her, of course, but since then, she'd been spending more and more time away with her mother.

She and him had come into each other's lives when they'd both been in dark periods – he'd just lost his badge, and her biological father had just disappeared. She'd given him the reason he'd needed to stay strong and put together, and he'd given her a home and new hope – they'd relied on each other to move beyond those points in their pasts. But now…she had 'real' family again. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but wonder if she still needed him…

Yet, at the same time, he knew that he still needed her.

Giving his head a frustrated shake, he picked up an already half-empty bottle of grape juice from a box near the couch, taking an absent swig.

…Was he the only one who felt like he was standing in place?

Trucy had a biological sibling and mother, as well as the rights to her grandfather's magic acts. Lamiroir had rediscovered both her children and her eyesight. Vera, the girl who had originally made the forgery that'd found its way to his hands, had just recently published her first original illustrations. His childhood friend and long time rival, Edgeworth, had recently returned to the country again and become Chief Prosecutor, last he'd heard. Another old friend, Ema, had finally passed her forensics exam. His old investigation assistant, Maya, had become the Master of her village. And Apollo was rapidly advancing in the same career he'd once had. Yet he was still just a pianist who could barely play.

No. What good was all this doing? He shouldn't be thinking about all this now. After all…self pity never helped anyone. And it certainly never paid anyone's bills.

Wiping a violet stain that the liquid had left by his mouth, he tossed the empty bottle away.

Besides…it wasn't like everything was all bad. He still had the dinner tomorrow evening to look forward to. With Iris. He smiled slightly again.

Iris had been his college sweetheart, and as fate, or perhaps luck, would have it, they'd met again close to eight years ago. But the circumstances hadn't been…ideal. She'd had to spend the past years in prison as an accomplice to murder. He'd paid her frequent visits throughout her captive years, however, and now that she'd recently been freed, they'd started to rekindle their old flame. It seemed the sparks they'd had between them in their school years hadn't completely fizzled out.

They'd already met several times since, and they'd actually wanted to get together the night before, but it hadn't worked out.

She'd needed to go to a party that was being hosted by a publishing company that she was hoping to get hired for. And it had also been the night of Trucy's first real magic show as a Gramarye, using the tricks she'd inherited from her grandfather. He'd of course promised her that he'd attend.

It'd gone very well, actually, especially for a debut. In some ways, he wished Iris had been there, too – she and Trucy still had yet to meet, though the younger girl had long been pressing him for an introduction.

He hadn't actually heard from Iris since early morning yesterday, he suddenly realized. …Should he give her a call?

She'd probably ask him how the review this morning went, and he wasn't looking forward to telling her…but maybe her voice was just what he needed to perk up.

Phoenix's smile widening a bit, he moved to reach for the phone when he suddenly heard an unexpected knock on the office door.

He blinked in surprise. Who could that be?

Nearly everyone he and Trucy knew had their own keys. It couldn't be that someone was actually interested in Trucy's talent agency, could it? After the seven years it'd been open without a single bite? Wow, maybe one major show had been all it'd taken for her to get her name out there!

Regardless, he pushed himself up and padded over to the door, pulling it open. "Hello, can I help you?" He greeted casually, though his voice momentarily choked off when he first caught sight of the face of his visitor.

There was…something familiar about her. Yet he couldn't place what it was. It was just a young girl; if he had to guess, he figured that she was roughly around Trucy's age. She had slightly longer and lighter brunette hair, a finely and delicately featured face, and wore a simple black dress. He internally went through a list of names and faces, but try as he might, he couldn't find an exact match. …Was he just imagining it?

"Umm…yes. Is this the Wright and Co. Law Offices?" She asked, an odd innocence in her voice as she gazed up at him through light brown eyes.

Phoenix flinched slightly. "Erm, well…it was, a long time ago. You're seven years too late, I'm afraid."

"Oh…" The girl seemed slightly disappointed. "I'm worried that I'm going to be accused of something dreadful, you see, and I'm looking for someone to defend me in case I get taken to court. So far everyone's turned me down, so I was hoping…" Her voice trailed off, the girl looking away with a distracted distance marring her gaze.

The ex-attorney gave another small sigh, feeling a new tinge of frustration at having to turn her down. If only the bar review had ended differently today…

But still, at least there was Apollo. He wouldn't have to send her away with nothing. "…We're not technically a law office anymore, but we do have an attorney who sometimes works out of the agency. Here…come in and I'll try giving him a call. I'm sure he'll take your case." After all, Apollo wasn't exactly swamped with potential clients yet at this stage of his career.

He gestured for her to come inside and take the couch if she wished – it would probably take a few minutes before he could find his cell phone in all this mess. She did so without saying anything, watching him through surprisingly intense brown irises as he dug around for it in the embarrassingly cluttered office.

"So…what is it you think you're going to be accused of, anyway?" Phoenix asked in an attempt to start up a conversation, feeling slightly awkward under her distant but somehow pointed stare. The sharpness of her gaze didn't match the lightness of her voice, he was quickly realizing.

"Homicide. I…unfortunately happened to be at the crime scene when it took place. I was the one who reported…the incident." She answered vaguely, not divulging anything else about her situation or the murder itself. Apparently she wasn't eager to talk about the details.

"Oh…I'm sorry. It couldn't have been a pleasant experience , but you did the right thing by calling it in." Phoenix tried to assure her, noticing the slight hesitance in her voice.

He wasn't exactly surprised at her words – almost every single one of his old cases, and now Apollo's too, had involved homicide in one way or another. Yet at the same time, it still struck him as a bit odd. He passed a brief glance backwards at the girl.

She…really didn't seem like the type. While not necessarily something he'd never seen before, he still found it hard to believe that a young girl no older than Trucy could be accused so easily. Yet she was sure enough that she would be that she was already seeking out an attorney. Why was she so certain that she'd be blamed? But…since she wasn't his client, it wasn't really his place to press for any more details, despite his slight curiosity. He'd leave that for Apollo.

"What's your name, anyway?" He wondered aloud, finally picking up his cell-phone after locating it beneath a few old newspapers on the kitchen table at long last. He started searching through his contacts for Apollo's number, but he'd need to know what to tell the defense attorney once he got a hold of him. The concert probably hadn't started yet – hopefully the boy would still pick up.

"Lenore Corby." The girl answered simply. With a slight shake of her head, she pushed herself back off the couch as she spoke and stepped towards the ex-lawyer. Distracted, he didn't notice her until she grabbed the cellphone's screen and pulled it down and away from his gaze, looking over it at him before he could find the number he needed.

He passed her a bewildered blink, his heart suddenly taking an unexpected jump as his eyes momentarily caught hers.

What…? Why did he suddenly feel so tense? Something in her already sharp gaze had shifted, the man still unable to put his finger on just what it was, much to his unease and frustration. Along with the strange sense of familiarity, he also felt an odd anxiousness now that he wasn't able to pinpoint or explain, either.

"I'm not interested in a rookie." She stated firmly, the innocence and desperation present before absent from her voice. "You're Phoenix Wright, correct? I've heard all about you. I want you to defend me."

The already slightly flustered man gave another blink, caught off guard. Eventually, however, he just shook his head. "I'm afraid that you must not have heard _everything_. I'm, well…retired. I'm sorry, but the best I can do is contact my pupil."

The girl, however, didn't seem either surprised or fazed. "I know. You were _disbarred_." There was a strange venom in her voice and an out of place smile on her lips as she spoke the word, almost as if she were taunting him. "But that doesn't matter. If you agree to take my case, I'll get you you're badge back." Her intense eyes narrowed. "How about it?"

"…My…badge?" He just echoed back, utterly confounded now. What was with this girl? What a ridiculous thing to say! There was no way just one girl her age would have such an influence over the bar association.

But the girl, Lenore, simply nodded. "That's right. I'll make sure that you have it back in plenty of time before my trial. …All I need is your agreement."

He was quiet for a moment. What was it this girl wanted? Did she honestly expect him to be that gullible, or did she really have some strange idea in her head?

Well…perhaps there _was_ one way to find out. Maybe if he played along for a bit…

Phoenix just shook his head. "…Can you promise that?" In actuality, he didn't have any interest in believing her claims, but he paid close attention to the girl as he spoke.

In the back of his mind, he felt a familiar weight in his pocket – his magatama.

It was a strange spiritual device – given to him by his old assistant, Maya – that allowed him to see the physical locks over someone's heart when they were lying or omitting truths.

"Yes, I can." Ms. Corby answered simply and confidently, adding a nod of her head and a slight smile. "You worry too much."

Nothing. No 'psyche-locks' appeared.

He blinked once again. He'd expected to see them come over here as she spoke, yet they hadn't… At the very least…that meant that she had every intention to, in fact, keep to her word and get him his badge back.

What on Earth was she thinking?

"…You wouldn't be doing anything illegal, would you?" He asked, pretending to act as though he was interested, while, in reality, he was still firmly focusing on watching for locks that he was certain he'd find. Of course she would be! There was no other way something like that could be possible.

But she still shook her head. "No, I wouldn't be doing anything illegal. So stop fretting about that part of it, alright? Are you going to take my case or not?"

…Still no psyche-locks.

How…? Just what did she have in mind?

Yet suddenly, he found himself strangely tempted, unable to look away from her strange hazel gaze.

She was just a young girl, and she'd just promised that she wouldn't do anything illegal, so…

What harm could it do?

"…Alright. Alright, if I get my badge back, I'll help you." The words suddenly left his mouth before the man even realized they'd formed on his tongue.

A satisfied smile came across the girl's lips. "Wonderful."

Finally letting go of the phone and stepping back, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. "Then please just sign and date this, won't you? Just to make sure that you don't forget about our promise in the meantime?"

Still partially bewildered, by his own words as much as hers, Phoenix distractedly took the pen she offered with it. "O…okay." He hesitated a moment longer, looking over the scrap of paper. But it was blank – nothing else was written on it. He supposed the empty slip couldn't do anymore harm at this point, the man signing his name and jotting down the date.

A small smile on her face, the girl quickly tucked away the paper again afterwards. "Thank you, Mr. Wright." She grinned, the innocence back in her voice. "I'm sure I'll be formally accused and placed in the detention center soon, so come there when you want to see me. I'll be waiting." And with that, she turned to move back towards the door.

"W…wait!" The man suddenly piped up. "I don't know what it is you're thinking, but don't count on it working. Just today I get rejected by the bar association. So you should still keep looking for someone else – "

But the girl didn't respond, simply closing the door behind her.

Phoenix just stood there a moment, somehow feeling oddly perturbed.

…What'd just happened?

…And what a peculiar girl… Lenore Corby, was it? Well, if she had some strange idea in mind, and if that was what she wanted, he wasn't going to try and stop her, but he already knew that it was never going to work. Perhaps she had a relative inside the bar association who she thought she could sway, but if that was the case, she would quickly find out that things didn't work quite that easily.

More than likely, he'd never hear from her again. He supposed it was a compliment that she was so set on having him as her defense, but for her sake, he hoped that she'd give up quickly and find someone else to take her case.

He just gave a quiet, almost slightly embarrassed chuckle, absently scratching the back of his head as he moved back to the couch. …Maybe it'd be best to just unwind for now and get his mind on something else aside from his worries. After all, he still had a stack of DVDs waiting to be watched.

* * *

><p><em>And now the stage is set for everything else yet to come.<em>

_Anyway, please review and let me know what you think so far~_


	3. Chapter Two: Bright Dawn, Dark Dusk

**The Typical Fan-Fiction Disclaimer:** I do not own Ace Attorney or any related characters or concepts, the Ace Attorney series is owned by Capcom, Shu Takumi, and various other parties and persons that have to do with the creation and/or publishing of the series. This is purely a fan work.

_Finally, here's the second, and a rather lengthy, full chapter! Thanks to everyone who's read/reviewed so far._

_Just a couple of notes that I forgot to mention earlier: I have no idea how the bar association actually works/operates, either in reality or in the context of the series, so I took a bit of a creative license with it. Also, in regards to the magatama and psyche-locks, I wasn't quite sure how to adapt it, so in the context of this fic, it's active, and can pick up lies, as long as the bearer has it in direct, close contact with themselves somewhere._

_Anyway, enjoy~ _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two: <strong>Bright Dawn, Dark Dusk

* * *

><p>It was a familiar chime that cut through the dim but peaceful layer of sleep like a knife, making it flicker and wane as it slowly stirred the man's consciousness from slumber. The sound was coming from the cellphone now placed at his bedside, the Steel Samurai ringtone echoing throughout the small, closet-like room with little regard to the early hour.<p>

Phoenix groaned as his mind, foggy with sleep, managed to quickly comprehend what the sound was. His eyes still closed, he instinctively reached over to his left, feeling around blindly though the piles of clothes and knickknacks until he finally felt the shape of his phone.

Grabbing it, he forced himself to sit up and open his gaze. He flicked the light switch near his mattress as he did so, only to partially blind himself as the dim, windowless room brightened. He gave another groan before blinking his eyes a few times and finally forcing them to stay open.

What time was it, anyway? …According to the alarm-clock also on his bedside table, it was just after 5:00 AM. …Who could be calling at this hour?

Judging from passed experiences, it was probably Larry with another girlfriend crisis that really wasn't a crisis at all, or Trucy, with a well-intentioned but horribly timed 'good morning', as she sometimes had a tendency to call with when she spent the night away from the office. The ex-lawyer rubbed his slightly aching temple. …Still, there was always that chance that it could be important. As tempting as it was to just drop the phone and collapse back into bed, he supposed he had to answer it.

He took the call without bothering to glance at the caller id, his eyes still too tired to really focus anymore than they had to. "What is it?" He demanded at whoever was across the line, the groggy, slightly irritated droll in his voice giving away the fact that he'd just woken up. "As much as I _appreciate_ the wake up call, it better be important. You do know what time it is, don't you?"

There was a slight hesitance from the caller before a reply finally came. "…Mr. Wright?"

Phoenix suddenly sat up straighter, the jolt of surprise that came when he realized that he didn't recognize the speaker's voice driving away some of his sleepiness. "O…oh, ah, yes." He confirmed with a slight sputter, a bit embarrassed for his earlier outburst now. "…Who am I talking to? Is something going on?"

He felt a brief tinge of sudden nervousness. It was often a stranger called so early – this wasn't something to do with Trucy, was it?

"I'm a desk worker from the courthouse – I've been told to relay a message from the bar association. There's been a slight…problem with your application." The voice finally explained.

"…A problem?" The groggy man echoed back in confusion. "But my application was already denied yesterday."

"Verbally, yes. But the paperwork hasn't officially been filled out yet. Each member of the bar association was to give a signature confirming their vote regarding the matter on the record of your plea, before it's filed later today. However…"

The voice momentarily paused, a strange hint of unease in its words. Phoenix didn't say anything, just waiting for it to continue as his foggy mind attempted to comprehend what the speaker was trying to say.

"However, a few members of the bar association, including those that were involved in the decision regarding your plea, are absent today. They gave no notice of leave and we've been unable to contact them. We very much need to stick to our daily schedule, yet we can't officially sign off on your plea without a certain number of signatures." The speaker started, briefly pausing and taking a breath that sounded conspicuously like a sigh before continuing.

"We've contacted some qualified, temporary replacements to take the seats of our missing members, but since your case is rather…_unique_, some of the replacements are refusing to sign off on the rejection of your plea without hearing it in person." The voice finally explained. "We would like to request that you come speak before the bar association again before a final decision is made. If you agree, we need you to come as soon as possible, preferably before 7:00 AM, so as not to hold back our planned schedule for the rest of the day."

Phoenix's eyes all at once opened wider. "Wait, you're saying that you need another interview?"

"That is correct." The voice confirmed simply.

The man felt his heart give a strange thump. "Would it really make any difference? Wasn't the decision pretty one-sided? And who are the members who went missing? Who are the replacements?" A barrage of questions left his lips before he could stop them.

There was what almost sounded like an irritated moan on the other end of the line before the speaker answered, giving a list of three or so names for the missing members. One in particular caught the man's attention. …_Mr. Quinn?_

The voice continued. "For the replacements, we've been forced to pull a few other attorneys attending the courthouse today, including Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth. Several of the replacements have been leaning in your favor, and a few standard members are now starting to second-guess their votes, making the decision more split."

"_Edgeworth?" _ Phoenix spat incredulously, taken aback. It'd been a while since he'd heard anything regarding his former rival.

He'd apparently startled the speaker slightly, as it took them a moment to respond. "Correct. Are you willing to give another plea or not? If you decline, your case will be dismissed by default." The voice was clearly starting to lose its patience.

"Y…yes. Of course. Thank you." He stammered, suddenly feeling a sense of urgency as he glanced about his messy bedroom. "I'll go get ready and head straight to the courthouse."

"Very well. Try to check in within an hour or so, if possible." And with that, the caller hung up.

Phoenix just stared at the phone a moment longer, giving a disbelieving grunt before placing it back down and forcing himself out of bed. Eagerness completely erased tiredness as he hurried to the bathroom across from his room to shower and prepare as quickly as he could.

In the back of his mind, he saw the face of the girl he'd talked to yesterday. …What was it she'd said again?

He felt a prick of uneasiness, but in the end, he just gave his head a dismissive shake. …There wasn't any way that she could have anything to do with this, was there? Nah. It _was_ quite a coincidence, but it seemed he'd just happened upon a stroke of luck.

Well, potential luck, anyway…if this turned out differently than his last interview had. Hopefully it wouldn't just be another unpleasant repeat of yesterday morning that he'd dragged himself out of bed for.

Still… _Edgeworth… _Not knowing what to think, the man just gave his head another shake. He'd heard rumors and gossip here and there, but this would be his first time seeing the prosecutor in several years. After losing his badge, he'd slowly lost contact with the other man as well. Well…that's how he liked to put it, anyway; in reality, things were a bit more complicated than that…

He gave a brief sigh to himself, not wanting to dwell on those memories too much. Especially not now, of all times.

…The thought of finally facing him again in a position like this…with his former rival now involved in the decision regarding whether or not he'd be reinstated…it was a somehow uncomfortable idea. The ex-defense attorney felt what was probably a brief tinge of shame, but brushed it away.

It didn't matter who it was. He didn't have time to think about any of this. He wouldn't let this opportunity go to waste.

After dressing in the nicest clothes he could find – with the nice suit he'd worn yesterday unfortunately still dirty – he hurried down the hall towards the exit of his office.

The man only paused to grab a piece of paper and a pen by the kitchen table, scribbling down a hurried note for Trucy:

_Got called back to the courthouse. _

_Should be back by before lunch. If you get back before I do, go ahead and have a pizza delivered._

_-Dad_

Remembering the burnt mess he'd come home to last time, he left a twenty dollar bill on the note. In all likelihood, he'd beat her home, but it was sometimes hard to tell with her. Her schedule was always unpredictable.

Satisfied that he was prepared as much as possible, an anxious Phoenix left the office and made his way towards the courthouse under the dim light of early morning.

* * *

><p>Phoenix just stared up at the man in the elegant maroon suit, his heart pumping heavily.<p>

He had a chance this time. Conveniently, most of the members who were absent were among those who had been speaking against him most fervently. Without them, the decision was looking to be split more towards the middle. So much so, in fact, that he couldn't tell what the outcome was going to be yet. He felt his fingernails dig into his palms; the suspense was agonizing.

Somehow, the closeness of a positive outcome, of his reinstatement, suddenly made him realize just how badly he wanted it.

There were just a couple of people who had yet to give their opinion. And his old rival was one of them.

He'd felt the weight of the other man's stare on him the whole interview, but this was the first time he'd brought himself to meet prosecutor Edgeworth in the eye since arriving.

He looked so much the same. Age had left a few marks, but he still carried himself in the same tone and dress that he always had. Looking at him now, it was almost hard to believe that over seven years had passed since they'd faced each other as rivals across the courtroom.

The ex-defense attorney supposed that he shouldn't be terribly surprised at the other man's persistent stare. After all, that same sentiment probably couldn't be said for him. …What did he look like to Edgeworth now?

He _had_ changed, and not in all ways for the better. Absently, he wondered how much of that was visible from the outside.

Nonetheless, the prosecutor had remained oddly silent throughout the interview, having scarcely voiced a word. But it was time now for a conclusion to be reached – everyone needed to give their votes, and it was his turn to speak. His brow was wrinkled, as if in a state of deep contemplation. Phoenix fidgeted anxiously – his stern expression was as hard to read as ever. He wished he'd just speak and get it over with; the anxiety was doing a number on his nerves.

But what finally did leave the prosecutor's mouth wasn't what he expected. After a last moment of hesitation, the other man gave a sound that seemed like something stuck between a sigh and a quiet chuckle.

Edgeworth just gave his head a casual, somewhat dismissive shake. "This whole conflict has always seemed a bit ridiculous to me. I can personally all but guarantee that the subject presented the forged evidence to the court not because he was trying to deceive the law, but simply because he is an imbecile."

There was a brief pause as the man got a few strange looks.

"According to his story, he originally received the evidence from a young girl no older than eight, who in turn had reportedly received it from another unspecified passersby. Most would naturally be suspicious of something coming from this origin, correct? But it's been proven many times past that the subject is not 'most people', making this story believable. He was foolish enough to blindly trust the evidence's validity, and it was this naivety that led to its presentation in the courtroom, not malice. It was recklessness, yes, but it lacked any unlawful intention. Perhaps he would now behave differently if in a situation like this again."

There was another brief pause. "Therefore, if clients want to risk their verdict with such a naïve simpleton, I say let them. I vote to allow the subject reinstatement."

Phoenix let out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He looked down again, once more finding himself unable to meet his former rival's gaze as the last few remaining members spoke up.

"I think the Chief Prosecutor might be right…I vote to allow it, as well." A new voice spoke, belonging to another replacement member. "After all, in the investigations that looked into his past cases after the accusation, there were never any other signs of deceit." A few more voices sounded, echoing much the same sentiment.

"In that case, it seems we have reached a different verdict than the original meeting. With the votes spread in the subject's favor at sixty to forty, the applicant, Phoenix Wright, will be immediately reinstated."

Phoenix's mind swarmed at the words; a hazy, disbelieving mess of thoughts.

…He'd actually been…?

Still almost dazed, he barely noticed when one of the members motioned for him to come closer and handed him something small, golden, and shiny.

He just stared at if for a moment, dumbfounded.

It was a badge. The same one he'd once worn before, he realized as he twisted it around in his fingers. It still had that same small knick on the back that it'd received when he'd dropped it way back when, a few days after he'd first received it originally.

An unusually wide smile found its way across his face. "T…thank you, sir!" He sputtered. "I won't disappoint you! I assure you that no situation like the one seven years ago will ever happen again." He promised, his voice almost overly eager. It was quite a switch from the somewhat dry, indifferent tone he'd adopted during the last few years.

The other man just nodded. "Very well. We trust that'll be the case."

* * *

><p>Everything after that was a bit of a blur, the man's mixture of excitement and slight apprehension keeping his mind too occupied for him to notice much else of what was going on around him.<p>

Phoenix was standing outside the interview room now, still just staring disbelievingly at the familiar badge in his hands.

He remembered now. He remembered now what it felt like to live a life with passion and real satisfaction, to feel like he was actually doing something instead of idling time away. The stakes had been much higher than just worrying about losing a poker record or playing piano well enough to barely squeak by without getting fired – he'd held a degree of responsibility over the fates of strangers, too. Yet he'd once felt so much more alive than he did now. Somehow he'd forgotten…somehow he hadn't realized that a part of him had withered away along with his old career.

What kind of person would he have been if he'd never lost his title? What would his life have been like right now? Even now, it would probably never be the way that it would've been…it would probably never even be the way that it once was.

It wasn't that that was always a bad thing. He had a daughter now; something that he hadn't even realized he'd wanted yet wouldn't trade for anything. And his former efforts to keep his title at poker and clear his name had forced him to grow a lot in other ways. He just…wondered if he was really cut out for this anymore. His strength had been the belief he'd put into his clients and what he was fighting for – would he ever be able to trust that much again?

Nevertheless, he'd never truly felt drawn to any other path. He had a second chance now…something most people never get. He was going to do his best to make sure that it didn't go to waste.

…Fate was a funny thing, sometimes…wasn't it? He couldn't help but think as he ran a thumb across the dulled surface of the badge.

It was only when he caught a glimpse of a tell-tale maroon suit passing by that he looked up. Even his old friend's fashion sense had remained the same.

"…Edgeworth!" He called out, both before he had a chance to think about what he was doing and before the prosecutor had a chance to exit.

The man stopped, turning to look back in his direction. He didn't say anything at first, but eventually spoke up when he got no other response. "…What is it, Wright?"

"I… Um…" Phoenix stammered a moment, as if trying to come up with the right words. "Thank you, Edgeworth." A small smile came across his features again. He could still see the slight, judgmental tinge in the prosecutor's gaze, but with the vote he'd given earlier…at least he knew now that the other man couldn't hate him that much. "That was the first time I've actually been glad to be called an imbecile."

The prosecutor just gave his head another slight shake. "I was merely explaining things as I saw them. It's…not as if I've never been in a similar situation."

That's right. A long while ago now, Miles Edgeworth had faced similar accusations, having unwittingly presented false evidence. Yet in the end, he hadn't been disbarred. Perhaps it was because he was a well renowned prosecutor. Perhaps it was because the evidence had come from his superior, not from a child he'd never met before at the time. But whatever the case, even though his verdict had come out differently, the other man knew well that the incident had left a heavy stain on his heart despite his best attempts to tuck it away.

The two of them had once been close enough for him to be able to see through such a façade. Yet now, he had a hard time imagining what was going through the head of his former rival and friend as the other man gave him a last, hard stare. There was a distance between them now, one that would probably never heal.

However, a strange smile ultimately found its way to his lips too. "But it's all in the past now; both your sins and mine. …I'll see you in court, Wright."

A brightness came across the other man's face. "I'll be looking forward to it."

"Then I hope that you haven't let yourself become too rusty. I could use a proper challenge." And with that, the prosecutor turned and left the room, leaving the reinstated defense attorney alone once more.

Phoenix didn't linger long, gripping the badge in his hands tightly as he hurried home. He couldn't wait to give to the good news to Trucy and Iris!

* * *

><p>The lights were still off in the main part of the office, just as they'd been when he'd left. It was getting close to 10:00 now, though, and mid-morning light was trickling in through the partially open blinds.<p>

Kicking off his shoes and placing the badge on a high, empty shelf – where it'd be safe from all the clutter until he needed it – Phoenix absently glanced at the note he'd left on the table.

It looked untouched, the twenty dollar bill he'd left next to it unused. It seemed like he'd beaten his daughter home, after all.

Still, he took a few glances around and called out, just to make sure. "Trucy?"

"…Mr. Wright?"

The voice that responded wasn't the one he'd expected, but he recognized it instantly. …Why was he here at this hour? The man whipped around to face the speaker as they emerged from the back area of the room. "Oh, Apollo? And what might you be doing here?"

The younger man looked away as soon as he turned around, his gaze angled down towards his feet. Phoenix thought he could hear him mumble something indistinguishable under his breath before he finally spoke up. "Nothing much. I'd just forgotten something the last time I was here and came to pick it up." He paused briefly. "E…er, where were you, Mr. Wright?"

Now that he mentioned it, he did seem to be clinging tightly to the bag he was carrying. Almost unusually so.

The recently reinstated attorney blinked. "Oh. What was it? I hadn't noticed anything of yours lying around. Of course, considering the clutter, I suppose that's not too surprising." He asked casually, trying to hide his slight bewilderment. He took off his coat as he spoke, hanging it in its usual place by the door. "As for me, I got an unexpected call this morning. A few members from the bar association were absent today, so they wanted to redo my interview. I ended up getting my badge back. Imagine that."

"Wow…really? Congratulations, Mr. Wright!" He chimed, though despite his words, his voice didn't actually sound particularly surprised at all. "…It was nothing important, just something that fell out of my bag." The other attorney insisted, the conversation moving back to him. "Trucy told me earlier that she didn't think it'd be a big deal if I stopped by to look for it."

"No, it's fine. After all, you do practically work here, too." The man admitted, despite his curiosity having gone unsated. He supposed he should let it go – for whatever reason, it didn't seem like his stubborn pupil wanted to share the details. Odd, but not really any of his business. Maybe it was something…personal. He couldn't help a slight smirk. "…Speaking of Trucy, did she say when she'd be home?"

The other man suddenly fell quiet, his gaze still focused on his shoes. There was a moment of what almost seemed like hesitation. "…She…didn't know for sure – she said that she was going to stop at the mall with a few friends on the way back."

There was a sudden, loud clank. A dark aura materialized around Apollo's figure as chains sprouted and wrapped themselves in front of his body. In the midst of them, likes flies caught in a web, five red locks held them together, shiny dully in the dim light of the office.

Phoenix almost jumped at their unexpected appearance, instantly taken aback. He just stared, dumbfounded.

"…Apollo?" He eyed the chains that only he could see uncertainly, more confused than anything else at first.

_Psyche-locks…? No way…!_

The other man seemed to flinch. Phoenix suddenly found himself gritting his teeth, a tinge of anger welling up from his chest.

_What the hell, Apollo?_

Apollo was lying. There was no other explanation. His wide, surprised gaze narrowed into a glare.

Was he lying about what Trucy had told him? Why she wasn't home? …Why would he?

The man knew from experience that the red locks guarding his secret weren't unbreakable. With the right amount of evidence and coercing, they would shatter like glass. But…

In this situation, all he could do was stare down the younger attorney, his gaze knowing and hard. "Apollo, why are you lying to me?" He asked matter-of-factly. "Where is Trucy really?"

The girl had just recently turned sixteen. She was getting older…perhaps she'd gone off with a few of her friends to do something slightly…less savory than hang out at the mall, and her older brother had agreed to cover for her. …It made sense. Almost all teenagers try to sneak off under their parent's noses at some point or another, don't they? But…somehow that just didn't seem like something she'd do…

Apollo still refused to move his downcast gaze. "Eh…? I wouldn't lie to you, Mr. Wright." He protested, his voice rising a bit. "That's what she told me, and I haven't heard anything from her since. Now, if you'll excuse me, I should be getting back to my own apartment."

It was clear that he was eager to leave. As he spoke, he approached the door, walking right passed Phoenix.

But before he could reach the exit, the older man placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Wait! Apollo…!" A tint of frustration had found its way to his own voice.

The other man instantly jerked back and roughly swatted his hand away. As he did so, his gaze lifted for the first time as he instinctively swung around.

Phoenix all at once let go with a startled gasp as their gazes finally met.

…That wasn't Apollo's face.

Stunned, the older attorney just stood there as the younger figure quickly whipped back around. He swung open the door. "Good day, Mr. Wright." And stepped through, closing it behind him.

_What…the hell?_

That phrase repeated in his mind once more as he stared at the latched door a moment longer.

He knew Apollo's face well enough by now. Yet when he'd finally turned around…that wasn't the face he'd seen. It'd only been a brief glimpse; not long enough to take in all the details of the finer features and narrower, colder eyes, but long enough to send a shiver down his spine.

First…he'd been lying, and then… Even the way he'd talked had sounded a bit unusual for him.

That _had_ been Apollo…hadn't it?

His voice had sounded the same as always, and he'd been wearing the same outfit, complete with his badge. But…

Phoenix strained to remember any other details… Had anything else seemed off? He wished now that he'd been paying more attention, but…unfortunately he hadn't been thinking much of it at the time.

A brief, far away memory slipped into the back of his mind. He _had_ seen something like that before…a long time ago.

Maya…

His former assistant…as well as a spirit medium. Her face and features had always shifted to those of the soul she was letting enter her body during a channeling. As ridiculous as it sounded, he'd seen it with his own eyes. So many times, in fact, that it'd once almost seemed like a normal occurrence.

No. He forced a small chuckle, shaking his head. What an impossible thought.

For one thing, only females from Maya's family, the Fey's, carried the ability to perform the technique that she'd inherited, herself. It was definitely not something that just anyone could do.

No. He repeated that thought, filing the memory away again. But then…what had he just seen?

…Perhaps the result of not getting a good night's worth of sleep.

Yeah, that's right. That made just as much sense. After all, the morning itself had been stressful, too. Maybe it'd finally worn down on him.

But even putting everything else aside, Apollo had still lied to him. That much was a fact. There was no way he could ever mistake those unnatural locks for anything else.

Absently, he fiddled uncertainly with the magatama in his pocket for a moment, before reaching for his cellphone and dialing Trucy's number.

Three rings…then a voice mail recording.

No answer.

He hung up with a concerned sigh. Well…if she hadn't told him where she was headed, he doubted she'd told her mother, either. Not knowing what else to do, he just put the phone back down.

…She was a smart girl. She wouldn't do anything reckless. He couldn't speak for the eight years she'd spent with her biological father…but he'd raised her right, hadn't he?

Walking over and opening the blinds, he glanced out the window. …If she wasn't back by evening… If she wasn't back by the time he returned from his scheduled dinner with Iris, he'd start calling around to try and find out what she was up to.

He doubted the need would arise, though. He was sure she'd be back in a few hours, and probably with the mall as her excuse.

Sighing again, he debated on whether he'd question her about what she'd actually been doing then or not.

But for now, he just needed to try and rest up a bit before the time came to start getting ready for dinner. Apparently the stress had been getting to him, after all… He absently glanced at the badge placed up on the shelf; at least he'd have good news for Iris, this time.

* * *

><p>Phoenix sighed as he put the cell-phone back in his pocket, leaning back against the stone wall of the restaurant where he and Iris were supposed to meet. Due to the season, the sky was still blue, but an evening chill had started to creep into the atmosphere. The man held his coat tightly to his body as he glanced around again.<p>

He was sure their dinner had been scheduled for tonight, but he'd already been waiting for her for close to an hour. And no matter how many times he called, she wouldn't pick up her phone.

…Come to think of it, she hadn't been answering his calls yesterday, either. …He didn't think he'd done anything to make her avoid him – they'd been on good terms during their last conversation and she'd said that she was looking forward to the dinner tonight. …Had something come up and she just hadn't gotten a hold of him?

He suddenly looked up as he heard the sound of a public transit coming to a halt at the bus stop across the street.

The man didn't have a driver's license – and never would, as far as he was concerned – so he'd arrived at the restaurant by bus. Iris, as it happened, didn't have one either, more likely due to her sheltered upbringing and the years she'd suffered through prison. Oftentimes they'd ended up riding the same transit, but not this time. And he'd already seen two more arrive and drive away, with no one he recognized leaving their doors.

He watched hopefully, but only four people stepped off this bus. An older woman with a child, and a couple about their age. Iris still wasn't there.

…She wasn't coming, was she?

He felt his lips curve into a frown, feeling a sharp sting of not only exasperation, but also a growing pulse of worry.

This was just…so unlike her.

Already knowing full well it was useless, he pulled his phone back out of his pocket for the fourth time that evening and dialed another call.

She didn't answer. No matter how much he wanted to hear her voice pick up, the closest he could get was her voice mail.

He hung up with a groan, but kept his phone in his hands.

He needed to get a hold of her _somehow_, or at least find out what was going on. …Who else could he call? She didn't really have any friends or family in this area…

Oh, she'd gone to a party last night, hadn't she? He suddenly remembered. It'd been held by the boss of a publishing company to help him decide who he wanted to hire, and she'd gone in hopes of getting a job, something her prison record made unfortunately difficult for her.

…What was the name of that company again? Monochrome Inc.?

It was a long shot, but he called the operator and rang up the number of a company spokesperson who'd helped host the party.

Finally, someone picked up.

"_I'm afraid the company office is closed. Please call again between 8:00 AM and 6:00 PM tomorrow."_

"Ah, no! I'm not calling about the company. I actually…have a rather unusual request." Phoenix protested, trying to catch the attention of the man on the other end of the line before he hung up. "Umm…well, I'm a close friend of a woman who was supposed to have attended your company's party last night, but I haven't been able to get a hold of her recently. I was wondering if you could tell me if she at least actually showed up there or not? I'd appreciate it." He asked hopefully. At the very least, it'd be good to know if she'd still been keeping to her planned schedule yesterday night.

"…_What is the name of the person in question?" _There was a slightly irritated groan from the other man, but he complied.

"Iris Hawthorne."

Silence. The man on the other line didn't respond to the name. Phoenix blinked. "So…do you think you could see if she's on your record?" He pressed after a few quiet moments.

Yet there were few more drawn-out seconds before the employee spoke up again. _"U…umm, I… You mean…you haven't heard?"_

Phoenix gripped the phone tighter, even as his fingers went cold. The way the man had reacted to her name… Something was wrong. Something was wrong, and it gave him a horrible, nauseas feeling in the pit of his stomach. "…Heard what?" He inquired, trying not to let his tension show.

There was an audible but indistinct mumbling from the other side of the line, as if the other man really didn't want to be there right now. _"I…suppose it makes sense… The police had trouble finding any family to contact from what I heard, and the incident hasn't been covered by most major news outlets yet… The boss said it'd be bad for the reputation of our company…" _The spokesperson continued, mostly to himself.

Phoenix just wanted him to shut up. To get to the explanation and tell him something that he wanted to hear, so that his heart could stop racing.

"…_I'm afraid there was an…incident at the party. A murder." _A short pause, as if the speaker had to force himself to continue. _"The victim…was named Iris Hawthorne. I'm…really sorry, sir…"_

The call ended as the phone slipped through Phoenix's fingers and hit the sidewalk below.

* * *

><p>The dimly lit office had never felt so empty and suffocating. The air was hot and stale, a trace of the summer heat still lingering in the atmosphere even as evening turned into night. It was quiet, too, the only sounds being the mechanical hum of the refrigerator and the relentless ticking of the clock hanging alongside it.<p>

But none of that mattered now.

Phoenix was collapsed on the couch, a bottle dangling from one hand and several other empty ones scattered on the ground below him, including one that'd been reduced to nothing but shards of glass.

He let out a dry, quiet moan, rubbing his throbbing temple with his free hand.

Iris…

At first, there'd been a stunned, desperate disbelief and a pulsing rage.

But now all that was left was a cold, hollow emptiness.

He wanted to shout, but he couldn't. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't. He didn't feel…anything. Even his own body felt chilled and disconnected, as if it'd already died, too.

Why now…? Why…? Just when he'd finally thought he'd found a bit of real happiness again.

He'd been so looking forward to seeing her again. To feeling her touch. To hearing her voice. To seeing her smile.

But now… He'd never witness any of those things again. She'd never again be beside him.

Her shy, gentle grin, their hopes together, and her own newly gained freedom. Someone had stolen all that away. They'd robbed her of the future she'd so patiently waited for behind bars all those years, and they'd robbed him of someone who'd become one of the most treasured people in his life.

Memories, and a few dated photographs. That was all he had left of her, now. It hadn't always been constant, but in some way or another, she'd been a part of his life for over ten years.

The times they'd shared drifted through his mind, like scenes from an old movie: Their unusual meeting during his college years. Finding her again at the Hazakura temple and realizing who she really was for the first time. The visits he'd paid her with a county jail security guard watching from behind his back. And celebrating her freedom; looking towards a future that, as it turned out, had never actually existed.

"Iris… Oh Iris…!" Now the tears finally came, his face damp before he even noticed. His hand was unsteady, too, he realized as he brought it up in a futile attempt to wipe his gaze.

"I'm sorry Iris…I'm sorry…" He choked out, his head hung low. There was nothing he could have done. It wasn't something anyone expected or wanted. He knew that, but it didn't keep his grief from escaping through his gaze and lips as the emptiness surged into a terrible sense of helplessness and loss.

He never knew how long he stayed like that – the pain kept throbbing until it was finally swallowed up by a relentless, unexpected slumber.

* * *

><p>It was the sunlight and the sound of traffic outside that finally woke him, Phoenix stirring with an uncomfortable groan.<p>

His whole body ached from laying on the stiff surface of the couch for so long – that old thing wasn't meant for use as a bed. He must've fallen asleep without realizing it…he had no idea when, or what time it was now.

He glanced up at the clock with a stiff neck. It was just after 11:00 AM, later than he'd usually get up.

But with yesterday's events still hanging over him, he wished he could just roll back over and fall back asleep. Right now, he wouldn't even care when or if he woke up again.

The pain was still there, and it showed no signs of leaving. It'd found him again the instant he'd woken up. He desperately wished he could chalk it up to a nightmare, but his resting place and the broken bottle on the floor evidenced that that wasn't the case, no matter how much he wanted it to be…

And no matter how much he wanted to just lie there and wait for slumber to temporarily take it away again, his body wouldn't let him.

He never had gotten dinner last night, and his stomach was angrily stirring in protest. And on top of that, his throat was absolutely parched; so dry that he wasn't sure he'd be able to speak yet.

Heaving a shaky, somber sigh, he forced his heavy legs to move and carry him over towards the kitchen. He needed water. His hazy mind finally cleared a bit as he poured and drank a glass, swallowing an Advil with it in hopes to dull the ache coursing through his head.

It was then that he all at once noticed something else, though.

On the counter was the note he'd left Trucy the previous morning, still as untouched as ever.

That's right, Trucy! She still hadn't come home by the time he'd left for the dinner, and originally he'd planned to call if she was still absent by the time he'd returned.

But in the state he'd been in last night…he'd completely forgotten.

He felt a sudden tinge of alarm mix with his other scattered emotions as he glanced around. "…Trucy?" He managed, his voice hoarse.

But he got no answer.

"…Truce?" Calling out her name a few more times, he stiffly made his way down the hall, knocking on the bathroom door and checking the small, closet-like bedroom that'd belonged to her since she was eight.

She wasn't there. She'd never come home – her bed and sheets were just as untouched as his note.

He felt a sudden, icy jolt drop into stomach, mingling with empty ache he already felt.

The man cursed beneath his breath. He didn't have the strength to deal with this right now…but he had to. He had to at least make sure that she was alright.

Phoenix was still wearing the same jacket he'd brought with him last night, and sure enough his cellphone was still in his pocket as well, where he'd placed it after picking it up off the sidewalk. Shoving the disconnected battery pack back in, he dialed his daughter's number.

_Please Trucy, just pick up! _He pleaded internally, not feeling like he could handle dealing with another crisis right now.

…But she didn't.

He called again just be sure, but came up with nothing but her voice mail. …Just like when he'd tried to call Iris last night…

_No!_ This wasn't anything like that! He just…couldn't quite think straight yet.

Okay…who else might know where she was?

Naturally, the next person to try would be her mother. After hazily looking up the number in his contacts, he rang up Thalassa. To the general public, she was something of a celebrity – he was probably one of the only people who'd been given the number to her personal phone, just for situations like this.

And someone answered this time.

"…Thalassa, did Trucy end up staying the night at your place again yesterday?" He asked, getting right to the point – he didn't have the energy left to spend on formalities.

The feminine, slightly accented voice on the other end of the line sounded briefly confused, followed by a hint of worry. _"…Mr. Wright? …No, she didn't. Why? Has something happened? You sound awful…"_

The weight on his stomach dropped even further. …She hadn't been at her mother's? Then where…?

"I know. It's…" His voice trailed off. He didn't want to explain what'd happened last night to her. Even if she was his adopted daughter's biological mother, he still didn't know her especially well. "…Have you heard anything from her at all? Did she tell you what her plans were yesterday?"

"_Not since she left yesterday morning. She told me that she that she was going straight back to your office."_

…Straight back?

Another curse slipped out beneath his breath.

"_Mr. Wright…?"_

"I…don't know where she is. She never came back yesterday, and I haven't heard from her, either. I was hoping that…"

There was an awkward moment of silence as Thalassa took his words in.

"…_Have tried calling Apollo? I'll try calling some friends of hers from that place – what was it called now…the Wonder Bar? – where she used to perform. She gave me some of their numbers earlier." _The usually serene voice that had made her famous was tainted with concern. _"If I hear anything, I'll let you know."_

"Alright. Likewise."

And with that, he hung up. He placed his forehead in his hand, giving it a tired, strained shake.

Apollo…

Right…he was her older brother and her work partner of sorts, if anyone knew it'd likely be him. And aside from that, it'd seemed there was something he'd been keeping to himself yesterday, too…

But this time he wasn't as lucky as he'd been with Thalassa – the younger defense attorney didn't answer the call he'd dialed.

"Damn it, Apollo…" Phoenix groaned in frustration, feeling a tinge of anger again about the way he'd lied right to his face the morning before. …What had Trucy really told him? Had she told him anything? He desperately needed to know, but if he wouldn't pick up, then he had no way of finding out.

Feeling his headache coming back and the lump still in his throat from last night getting stronger, the man returned to the couch. He gave his face another wipe with his sleeve, forcefully removing a few tears that still escaped without him noticing.

He managed to dial a few more numbers – a few friends of hers that he was aware of, himself. It didn't get him anywhere, though; all the calls netted him were a few more voice mail messages and a few confused voices who told him that they hadn't seen her.

Phoenix gave yet another groan. Of all the times for her to run off…why today? He didn't feel like he had it in him to handle anything else right now… His thoughts of Iris were already sapping any energy he had.

He waited another hour, hoping to hear something either from her mother or from the girl herself. But no call ever came.

The hollow ache in his chest throbbing, he made a decision and picked up his cellphone yet again.

Something about this was just…wrong. Trucy had never done anything like this before. True, she was getting older, but she was a thoughtful girl – she wasn't the type to just leave everyone else to worry.

"_Hello? Los Angeles Police Department."_

"Umm…" He hesitated a moment longer, giving his a head a small shake. Once he did this, there would be no more playing it down as something that wasn't a big deal. "…I'd like to report a missing person."

* * *

><p>Phoenix stared emptily out the bus window, his troubled thoughts elsewhere as the city scenery passed by in a blur. It was evening now, light slowly seeping out of the azure summer sky. In the back of his mind, he wondered how the horizon had managed to stay so relentlessly clear and blue even on a day like this one; it was almost irritating.<p>

Despite his own somber haze, and even without her, Iris, in it, the world and the city were just the same as always. People walked the streets outside the bus, some alone on their way home from work, and others hand in hand with their loved ones. Cars whistled by as they carried their drivers on their daily schedules. And several voices, some frustrated and others light and carefree, sounded above the mechanical drone of the bus' engine. It was just another lively summer evening – a thought that was somehow both comforting and bitter at the same time.

He'd spent the rest of the day hauled up in the office, lethargically waiting for a call that never came. Tired of being alone with his thoughts – his grief over Iris and his worry of Trucy, feelings he feared might swallow him up if he remained in nothing but their company – he'd realized that he'd needed to force himself to leave, to do _something_. Besides, this was the responsibility he'd signed up for years ago when he'd taken in a former client's daughter as his own. …Being a father wasn't always easy.

The man had decided to stop by a few of Trucy's favorite hangouts – the Wonder Bar, the mall, her preferred fast food joints – to see if he could find or hear _anything_. …There was something else he figured he should probably do, too.

With a loud hiss, the bus came to a sudden stop. Forcing himself up, Phoenix felt the badge in his pocket jingle against a few loose coins as he stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of the county detention center.

His old badge…it was only yesterday that he'd gotten it back, but somehow it felt like weeks ago. He would need it for this stop, but he somehow didn't feel like putting it on anymore… He just wanted to make this quick. That was all.

Stepping inside, he walked over to the front desk. "Excuse me, is there a suspect here named Lenore Corby?" He asked dully, briefly taking out and flashing his badge as he asked the question. Hopefully that would be enough for the attendant to let him in.

…If the girl was in fact here, of course. Not long ago, he'd made a somewhat reckless deal to help her if he was to get his badge back. And lo and behold, he had. His mind still refused to consider the possibility that she actually had anything to do with that truth, but the fact that he'd made her a promise still remained.

Unfortunately…it was one that he wasn't going to be able to keep. As of yesterday evening, there was no way he could go back to his old job… He just didn't have it in him. Not now. Maybe a few weeks into the future, after time had done some healing and Trucy had surely been found. Right now, he didn't have enough room left in his mind nor energy in his body to deal with even keeping the facts straight about anything else. Taking a case now would be a disaster.

What he'd come to do was to apologize and tell her to start looking for someone else. He figured that he should inform her as soon as possible – he owed her that much for breaking a promise, at least.

The man at the desk gave him a short, strange look, but then nodded his head. "Down the left hallway, in cell C-2." He answered simply, his attention already shifting back to the paperwork in front of him.

Phoenix just gave a brief nod back before turning and heading down the hallway that'd once been so familiar. Giving his face a last wipe, so as to hopefully not look too horrible, he approached the area where she was supposedly being held. So she _was_ here…she'd been taken into custody, just as she'd predicted…

Sure enough, sitting in cell C-2 was a familiar figure. Lenore Corby was hunched over on one of the room's only seats, staring down at her shoes through her long brunette hair.

Hearing his footsteps, though, the girl finally looked up. A smile came across her lips as she recognized the man. Pushing herself up, she stepped over towards the visitor window to meet him. "…Mr. Wright! You did come! …I thought you would." She greeted with a grin, her voice relieved.

The man just looked away as he approached, giving a quiet sigh. "Erm, look…Ms. Corby, I –"

"That sounds so formal. We're going to be speaking a lot, so just call me Len." The girl interrupted, still looking up at him eagerly.

"…Alright, Len…I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that I'm not going to be able to help you." He admitted up front, his own gaze angled down towards his shoes now. "I wish I could, but the timing was awful. For your own sake, you'd be much better off with someone else right now."

The girl's eyes widened in what looked like a mixture of disappointment and irritation. "What! But…you did get your badge back, didn't you? You _promised_!"

That stare… That same intense stare that she'd had back at the office. He wished she'd stop trying to catch his gaze.

Phoenix anxiously scratched the back of his neck without looking up. "…I know. But I don't know what I was thinking when I said that." It'd been an irresponsible thing to do, to begin with. "…Some things have come up since then, and…"

His voice trailed off. Wait…

He finally raised his eyes again, bringing them to face hers now. "…The way you were talking before…did you really know that I was going to end up getting my badge back? Did you know that Mr. Quinn and the others would be missing the next day?" She seemed hardly surprised by the fact that he'd come, and already seemed to have assumed that he'd been reinstated. In fact, she'd just said it herself – she'd been expecting him. Had she known that the board members were going to be absent from their posts yesterday? …How? Not even the other members of the association seemed to have anticipated their absence. …Yet it seemed like the only explanation.

The girl, Len, blinked a moment, before a small smile found her features again. She gave just a brief giggle. "…Perhaps." She replied vaguely, leaving it at that.

Phoenix felt a tinge of frustration. What kind of answer was that? …It wasn't definite enough to set off his psyche-locks either.

He briefly wondered whether or not the missing bar association members had shown back up again today, realizing now that he didn't know. But that didn't really matter right now…did it? He had other things to worry about.

As he returned the girl's unmoving stare, though, he found his own narrowing in slight suspicion. "Are they still missing? Do you know where they are?" He tried again, even his distracted, unpleasant emotions unable to prevent his curiosity from finding his voice.

Len shook her head, her voice sounding slightly hurt. "Judging from some gossip I heard down the hall, it sounds like they're still missing. But no, I don't have any idea where they went…why would I know?" She kept her gaze steady, though her expression shifted downwards into a small frown.

Good. That was a more definite answer, and there were still no psyche-locks. That was one less worry, at least. Even if she _had_ somehow known in advance that they'd be gone, it appeared that she didn't have anything to with their actual absence, after all.

The way she'd phrased it when she'd first approached him… "_If you agree to take my case, _I'll_ get you you're badge back." …_He'd almost been a bit worried.

Still…the board members hadn't shown up yet, huh?

"Well…I suppose it doesn't really matter." The man admitted, sighing with a long breath. "The bottom line is that I'm afraid I can't take your case right now." He repeated, more sternly. "A lot of other things happened in the last couple days…things I need to take care of. I just don't have it in me right now to give you a proper defense." He admitted, hoping to end the conversation with that. Before he could say anything else, though, the girl spoke up again.

"Like what?" She asked innocently, still looking up at him with those intense eyes.

"Things I don't feel like talking about." He rebutted, shaking his head.

Len's frown deepened. "But you made a promise with me! You even signed your name, remember? If you're going to break your agreement, I at least deserve a proper explanation, don't I?" The teenaged girl argued, not giving up.

Phoenix gave a deep, frustrated moan. He supposed that she had a point, but… He had to struggle to hold back the lump in his throat, his tongue still not wanting to voice what he already knew. Even though they were truths he couldn't avoid, speaking them aloud just made them seem so much more…final. He fought to keep his words steady. "My daughter is missing right now, I need to be focused on looking for her. And yesterday… Yesterday I found out that someone very dear to me is gone." He finally decided to explain as briefly as he could…maybe that would be enough to get him out of there. He looked down again in a weak attempt to hide the wetness threatening his gaze once more.

"Oh…I'm sorry, Mr. Wright…" The girl blinked as she spoke, finally looking down a bit. "…Who was it?"

Nope, apparently his simple explanation hadn't been enough for her. …What was with her, anyway? Why was she so interested? Even her determined voice had remained unchanged despite the sadness tainting his. "That's not really any of your business. I already told you what happened." He insisted aloud. "I really am sorry, but I need to get going now. I'm sure that you can find someone else. Good luck with your trial, Ms. Corby." He finished, eager to leave.

He turned back towards the hall, but before he could get very far, he heard the girl's voice once more from behind him. "…Her name was Iris Hawthorne, wasn't it?"

The man instantly froze, feeling a shiver work its way down his spine. He never answered or turned around, but apparently his tenseness was the only confirmation the girl needed.

"…I had a feeling. The timing was perfect with what you just said." She gave a brief pause. "You never even checked up on what my case actually is, did you? I'm being tried for the murder of Iris Hawthorne. I saw her die. …Did you know that?"

A silence.

Phoenix slowly turned back to face her, his gaze cold and hard. "…Did you do it? Did you…did you kill her?" He asked flat out, a frightening edge to his tone. Just now…there'd been something almost sinister in her voice. If she had…if it was her…!

The girl looked aghast at the accusation, shaking her head violently. "No! Of course I didn't…! I…!" She stammered, her stare finally moving away from the man. The dark glint in her voice was gone, leaving the man to wonder whether or not he'd actually heard it at all. "I just happened to be in the same room when she fell… That's all!"

Phoenix released a breath that'd gotten caught in this throat. No psyche-locks, either. Thank goodness.

"…Fell?" He murmured quietly. It was true – he'd never even looked into what this Lenore Corby's case was nor what exactly had happened to Iris. He wasn't sure he really wanted to know, to have to picture whatever it was she'd suffered through, but… Now that the girl had started the story, he wanted to hear what she had to say. She'd opened pandora's box, in a sense. What had really happened during the party? Who was responsible for stealing their future away?

Len raised her eyes back up. "They haven't done a full examination yet, but so far the police are saying that the cause of death seems to be falling from the second story patio of the host's house. The investigators seem to think there's evidence of foul play…they think she was pushed…but I didn't see anyone else there! Although…" The girl paused, as if trying to recall the incident. "…The woman…she did almost look like she was in pain before she fell…"

Phoenix stayed silent. …Iris.

He'd fallen once several years ago, off a suspension bridge. At the memory, the terrifying sensation of helplessly tumbling through the empty air, as nothing but a plaything of gravity, repeated again in his mind, despite his best attempts to keep it from creeping in. He'd been lucky…he'd hit the river below and been rescued. In Iris' case…there'd surely been nothing waiting for her below except the hard, merciless cement sidewalk. The man swallowed hard, feeling a hollow shiver as the lump in his throat threatened to swell up once again.

But…in pain before she fell? What did this girl mean by that?

Noticing his quietness, Len spoke up again, as if his reaction was making her nervous. "B…but I swear I'm not the one who killed her! I didn't do it, so…" Her gaze fell as it watered up. The girl had acted calm so far, but it looked like everything was finally getting to her. "…Why did I even go to that stupid party…? If I'd never gone…" She muttered beneath an uneven breath, her voice full of regret.

Phoenix finally looked up. "I know. I believe you." He stated simply, trying to force a weak, comforting smile. The girl suddenly looked so small and helpless… "…And I've changed my mind. I'll help you. This is one case that I won't let the courts get wrong."

That's right. Now that he'd gone far enough to hear the girl's story, he couldn't go back. He couldn't just leave this in someone else's hands and forget about it. He wouldn't let them punish the wrong person.

For Iris' sake.

A light instantly returned to the girl's face. "Really? You will?" There was just a slight shift in her smile. "…You must've really loved her, huh?"

Phoenix just stared at her a moment, before looking away and giving but a simple nod while trying to hold back the water welling up behind his eyes. He never answered; the tightness in his throat wouldn't let him talk about it anymore – if he did, he wouldn't be able to keep choking it down. "Do you know when your trial is scheduled?"

"It's still a ways away, two weeks from now…" Len answered, fiddling anxiously with the hem of her sleeves at the thought of the date.

"Good…" The attorney sighed in relief. Going straight into something like this after an almost eight year leave would be hard enough. Hopefully the date would give him enough time to find what he needed as well as figure out what was going on with Trucy. After all, she'd _definitely_ be home well before then…right?

Speaking of which, he still needed to look around for her on the way home before it got too late.

"In that case, I'll start looking into it and talk to you in a few days." He started, scribbling something down on an old receipt in his pocket and passing it to her. "Here's my number. Give me a call if something comes up before then. You can fill out the paperwork next time you see me."

"Y…yes. Thank you." The girl smiled gratefully.

Not saying anything else, the man just gave another nod before turning and leaving the detention center, lost in his own thoughts once again.

* * *

><p>Hours of searching and still no luck… No matter where he went, the story was the same. There was no sign of the young magician or anyone who'd seen her in the last couple of days.<p>

…Where could she have gotten to? It was as if she'd just vanished…

No! That was impossible. He shouldn't even let himself think like that. They would find her. If not him, then her mother or the police. She was alright. She had to be. There was no way he'd lose someone else, not now. That wasn't even a possibility!

He shook his head as if to convince himself, struggling to fight through his growing anxiety as he forced his feet to move back towards the bus stop.

While he was waiting, though, something familiar caught his eye.

He'd just left a fast food restaurant that Trucy frequented, and it looked like another customer was making their way there. Someone that he recognized, this time. There was no way he could mistake those two, odd prongs of hair for anything else.

"Hey, wait! Apollo!" He called, moving away from the bus stop and heading toward the younger attorney's figure. His frustration with the boy was already present in his voice.

Apollo tensed in surprise, stopping and turning around to face him. "…Mr. Wright?" He blinked, bewildered by his almost angry tone. "What're you –" He cut his own voice off as he finally got a good look at the other man, feeling an unexpected tinge of alarm. "You look…terrible! What's wrong? Did something happen?"

Ignoring his questions and the worry in his voice, Phoenix just fixed a glare on his pupil. His face was as familiar as ever this time, he realized in the back of his mind, but didn't bother dwelling on that fact. That wasn't what mattered now. "Apollo…where's Trucy? You know something, don't you?"

"H…huh?" The younger attorney sputtered, shaking his head. "What are talking about…? You mean you don't know where she is?"

"Just tell me!" The other man demanded. "You lied to me yesterday. Why? What did she really tell you?"

Apollo almost took a step back. This wasn't like Mr. Wright at all; he was always so nonchalant and laid back. It took something serious to work him up like this nowadays. "I…I really don't know what you're talking about! I didn't even talk to you yesterday! And the last time I saw Trucy, she just told me that she was headed back to your place. That's it!" He insisted. "…What happened to her? She's alright, isn't she?"

Phoenix's glare never wavered. "Are you forgetting about when you stopped by the office to pick up something you'd left the day before? That's not what you told me then. According to you, she'd said that she was headed off to the mall for the afternoon, and you were lying. She hasn't been home since the morning she left for the concert. Tell me where she went!"

Apollo just stared, dumbfounded. "Mr. Wright, calm down! Has all that grape juice gone to your head – I told you, I don't know!" His own voice was starting to rise. "…You're not making any sense! I was never at the office yesterday! I was home sick with a fever…" He protested, flustered. "And she never said anything like that. She said that she was going straight back home the last time I talked to her. …She really never showed up?" A note of bewildered concern entered his tone as well as he finished.

It seemed to snap Phoenix back to reality this time, the man finally starting to listen to what Trucy's older brother was saying.

"…You were at home, sick?" He repeated, suddenly sounding just as confused. "Y…yeah, I haven't heard anything from her since the last time you two left…"

Apollo nodded. "That's right. One of those twenty-four hour bugs hit me after the concert. I couldn't do anything expect rest that day, so I stayed in bed. …At least…I think…" His voice trailed off, the last sentence muttered beneath his breath so quietly that the other man almost missed it.

The young attorney gave his head a brief, dismissive shake, as if to clear it. "That's why I've been so busy trying to catch up with work today. I've got a big trial coming up and I'm not at all ready for it. I don't even have time to answer the phone! …What a horrible time to have been sick." He complained aloud, before the worry returned to his voice. "Are you sure she didn't just change her mind…? Maybe she decided to go hang out with one of her friends…she could have gone to one of those 'slumber parties' girls her age seem so fond of. Have you called around?"

It was his earlier statement that caught Phoenix's notice, though. "…You…think?" He repeated again, giving the younger man a strange look.

Apollo winced, wishing now that he hadn't let that slip out. "…I actually don't remember yesterday real well…" He admitted, his face suddenly flushing a bit. "B…but I'm sure it's nothing. It was probably just the fever. I think I fell asleep a few times without realizing it…"

Phoenix was quiet for a moment. "I've already called everyone I can get a hold of, but if you really haven't heard from her either I suppose I should get going again. There are still a few places left to look. …Let me know if you hear from her, alright?"

Apollo nodded. "S…sure, I'll keep my eyes open and look around for her a bit, too. Call me when you find her."

"Yeah…" Phoenix answered distractedly, before turning back a final time. "Oh, and did I tell you yet that I ended up getting my badge back after all?"

The other man's eyes widened. "…You did? Really? But I thought…" He gave a brief pause, before deciding his confusion didn't matter right now and just passing him a grin. "Well, congratulations, Mr. Wright! I'm sure Trucy will be excited too once you get a hold of her!"

He seemed genuinely surprised enough.

Their conversation ended with a final nod, the older man wandering back towards the bus stop.

"…_Speaking of Trucy, did she say when she'd be home?"_

"…_She…didn't know for sure – she said that she was going to stop at the mall with a few friends on the way back."_

Phoenix sighed in frustration, thinking back to yesterday's conversation with Apollo. Or at least…who he thought had been Apollo. His face… The image of his unusual features flashed in his mind again.

"…_I actually don't remember yesterday real well…"_

He'd acted and looked completely different today…more like his usual self.

And throughout the whole conversation, he realized, there hadn't been a single psyche-lock. Not when he asked him about what Trucy said, not when he'd asked him about whether or not he'd been to the office, and not when he'd asked if he'd heard yet that he'd regained his badge. At the very least, that meant that if he _had_ in fact been to the office yesterday, he truly did have no memory of it.

He found himself thinking again about Maya…the way her and the other mediums would change while channeling. Because they completely handed over their bodies to other spirits, they would be unconscious during the actual event. They never remembered anything afterwards.

But that…really was impossible…wasn't it? …There was no way that…

Apollo was neither a female nor a Fey. And a channeling was always something that a medium conducted intentionally. It couldn't be…

But…

He had no other ideas or explanations.

And the strange incident with Apollo was the only lead he had. Randomly searching around had done no good whatsoever, and he had a feeling that it wasn't going to, at this rate.

A bus pulled up while he stood lost in thought, though it wasn't the one he'd been waiting for.

Making a sudden decision, he stepped inside regardless and approached the bus driver. "Erm, excuse me…will this bus get me to Kurain Village?"

"This bus will get you to the transit center. From there you can hop the bus that you'll need." The driver explained. "It's a ways out there, but our distance northbound bus will get you there overnight. It arrives at the village early every morning."

"Thank you." Phoenix just nodded and scanned his bus pass, moving to take a seat before he really had time to think about what he was doing.

Kurain Village. …It'd been so long since he'd been there that he barely remembered where it was to begin with.

It was a huge long shot that he'd actually find or hear anything there that would help him, but it was better than idling time here and leaving it all to the police. And who knows? Iris had in fact been born as part of a Fey branch family. Maybe he could learn something about her or the case there, as well…

Absently, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the old badge. He gripped it tightly, before finally putting it on for the first time in over seven years.

If all this had truly been going to happen, if it had all been unavoidable…perhaps the timing wasn't so bad after all. There were two things he knew with absolute certainty. He would find Trucy. And he would find Iris' true killer. He wouldn't let things happen any other way. And at least now he once again had some power to do so.

_Don't worry, Iris. I'll make sure that whoever did this to you is punished. I won't let your case slip through the cracks. I swear it._

His gaze returned to the city outside the moving window as he slowly made his way to his next destination, his mind lost in his thoughts and memories.

* * *

><p><em>And that's it for this chapter – the next will bring Kurain and Maya into the mess, as well.<em>

_Please review and stay-tuned~_


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